


Unheard Of

by marimoes



Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon Compliant, Law is a little shit in Sabaody, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 03:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20539538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: While trying to quickly make his way through Sabaody, Drake finds himself with company. Company that he can’t say he is rather keen on, but desires nonetheless.





	Unheard Of

**Author's Note:**

> What started with a bunch of tumblr asks quickly spiraled into a rarepair hellscape. I hope I can drag you all along with me.

The dull popping of bubbles above Drake’s head is starting to give him a migraine. His thumb and forefinger press into his eyes trying to find some relief but he finds none. Relief a rare resource on the hell of this island. With ground sticky beneath his boots, squelching with each step and all he can think about is how long it’s going to take to get his ship coated.

It was supposed to be done this morning. That damned shipwright got drunk last night and couldn’t finish. 

Instead he waved Drake away and told him that it would be done by this afternoon. Perhaps tonight if he didn’t leave him alone. A grit of his teeth kept him from snapping at the man, but he left.

After all, nothing good comes from hanging around Sabaody for long. He’s heard the stories. Tales of the auctions. The murders. Fighting rings held in the dead of night. All very uninteresting if you ask him. 

He wants to keep moving. Staying stagnant isn’t quite his style and after many years of following orders he isn’t too keen on having to wait. Obey. Listen. That among the swarm of pirates just as dangerous as himself has Drake on edge. 

Makes him ignore his gut when he wanders into a nearby bar. 

The sign said something about a special. What that special is, he isn’t sure, and doesn’t quite care to be honest. He just wants to breathe for a moment. To dull the thudding of his heart in his head. 

Drown it in the light gold beer being poured into a mug in front of his eyes. Bartender a slender girl with large eyes that are focused on the pour. Her hair nearly the color of his own and he lets himself fantasize for a moment. 

If he instead had her to use as a stress relief. But no, she’s already moving down the bar to fetch something else. His drink sweating in her hand as the heat takes hold under the noon sun. 

His mouth is bone dry, getting worse by the second as he watches her walk back. Foam a rich white floating on top, beads of water dancing off the sides. How satisfying it will be once he has three. Perhaps more if that shipwright doesn’t finish soon. 

Bringing her hand down to the bar, the drink doesn’t arrive in front of Drake. Instead, an annoying shade of yellow fills his peripheral vision. One he hoped he wouldn’t deal with again while he was on Sabaody. 

“Ah, sorry to steal your drink Drake.” Law says and pulls the mug to his lips. He gulps the drink down quickly, smacking at the release. Another is quickly poured and placed onto the bar and Drake groans, picking it up. Tipping it back, he downs it in one go before letting it slam back against the bar. Law throws up a hand to signal another round, knowing smirk resting on his face. “I’ll get the next round.” 

“Fuck off, Trafalgar. Haven’t you caused enough trouble for me?” Drake huffs, only daring to quickly shift his eyes to look at Law. Attention drawn instead toward the newly filled mug in front of his face. 

The beer is nearly sweet in its aftertaste. A thick honey from home comes to mind and while it lingers for a moment, he remembers who is in his presence. Trafalgar Law. The Surgeon of Death. Curse of the North Blue and much more than that, a man who is starting to pick up a reputation. A bounty nearly rivalling his own. 

A rival. 

A lover. 

The night before still fresh in Drake’s mind, he doubts highly that it’s in Law’s. Hands clawing against the others skin. Sweat mixed with swearing. Release leaving him weaker than he’s ever felt, even after a long battle. 

Law left quickly after they finished. Cleaned himself up with haste and with no undue words spent between them. Only silence hanging heavy along with the light of the moon. A gentle blanket as Drake laid back upon the nearly destroyed bed. 

Quietly wondering just how much it would cost to keep the inn off of their backs. A thought Law seemed to read, digging into his pocket before placing two coins onto the dresser. Their soft click almost deafening in the small space. 

Shine nearly rivaling the gold that sat dark under his heavy lids. 

He turned, only a smirk on his lips before slipping out into the night. Gone, Drake hoped, forever, so he didn’t have to confront any thoughts he had later on. Eyes focused on the ceiling before they fell closed without his knowing. Lulling him into dreams of passion far greater than he previously believed was possible. 

Only to have Law here next to him at this bar. Eyes still heavy as ever; enticing as ever. 

“Come now Drake, that’s not very polite. Didn’t the Marines teach you any manners?” A slam of Drakes mug vibrates the glass in Law’s hand and draws a laugh from his mouth, “They sure taught you how to f-” 

“Enough.” 

“Maybe I should top next time if you’re going to be such a tight ass.” Law mutters around the rim of his mug, “If it’s even worth my time.” 

Drake moves, quickly, his hand sliding easily into place against Law’s neck. Mug shattering on the ground pulls the bars focus. You can almost hear the sigh from the shop owner near the door. Given the frequency of pirates and hunters on the island, it’s unlikely many glasses make it through the week. The one at Drake’s feet the newest sacrifice. 

“Watch your tongue or I’ll ensure you lose it.” Drake bites. A low growl sits heavy in his throat and the back of his neck itches with sweat. He won’t lose it in this bar. He won’t let Law get to him like that, “Just—go. You have a submarine; the fuck are you hanging around here for anyways?” 

“Wanted to see that precious face of yours one last time.” Law chokes out beneath Drake’s hand, undeterred in the slightest. Knowing that in a moment’s time he could have Drake chopped and scrambled under his own power, “That and the auction.” 

Drake’s hand drops from Law’s neck then. A blow of annoyance pushing between his clenched teeth. The sense of tension in the space between them has shifted, from irritation to unease. 

“Never took you for the slave type.” Drake says, tone even and Law nearly smiles at the change. How quickly he’s able to reel in his emotions compared to the others in their damned generation. At least...usually. “Don’t make a choice you’ll regret, Trafalgar.” 

Law leans back, rolling his head gently to toss the feeling of Drake’s grip away. Again picking his glass up to finish the beer. Water now puddled around it on the bar where it sat, it drips in the awkward silence between them. Drake only watches as Law finishes, trying to pull his eyes from his lips on the rim of the glass. Shiny with foam that he quickly licks off with a dart of his tongue. 

It leaves Drake to shift uncomfortably, eye flitting between Law and the door. Either option seeming just as appealing. 

“How long until the auction?” 

The question is innocent enough, but both men know what Drake is really asking. How long do we have to do something? Law hums, such a satisfied noise. One that very nearly makes Drake want to both kiss and clock him. A bounce of his foot as he crosses his legs on the stool. Another hum. 

“Enough time. Though, a second round? I must say that with me that’s unheard of.” Law croons and lets his head fall. Nestling it into his thin hands. The ones Drake so badly wants to control again, “Then again, you don’t seem the type to get scared off.” 

“Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.” The shift in energy is almost dizzying bouncing between them. Like a sped up game of tennis, the mood volleys between the men. Each not allowing themselves to be the first to falter, “So?” 

“I hear the inn next door is of better quality. Perhaps,” Law pauses to stand back up. He stretches upward, groan slipping from his mouth as his shirt reveals a sliver of his stomach. A view Drake tries hard to ignore, “The beds are also of higher standard.” 

A toss of a coin on the bar is the last thing Law does before shoving his hands back into his pockets. Moving to pass by Drake, he hovers, only for a moment. Law’s mouth opens with words unsaid and as Drake strains to listen, all he gets in response is a sigh. 

A sigh that says so much more than words ever could. The end high and airy. Similar to a memory he’s now holding onto a little tighter. Much like the fabric of his pants continue to hold tighter to him as well. 

“Don’t make me late for the show, Drake. Unless you can give me a better one.” Are Law’s parting words before slipping back through the entrance of the bar. Tone low and demanding in a way that pulls an odd chill up Drake’s spine. 

A click of his tongue is the only response Drake gives before tossing his own payment onto the counter. Looking up at the clock, his ship was supposed to be ready by now, but Drake can’t seem to muster the same urgency he had when he walked in. 

After all, he has other plans. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me about this!  
@noswordstyle on Tumblr  
@__moes__ on Twitter


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